The Falcon and the Snowbird
by sentinel28
Summary: It's a Circle of Equals fight between Senefa and Sheila, with the Planting campaign riding on the outcome.  Let's get ready to rumble!
1. Of Wolves and Snowbirds

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Welcome to Part Five of the Snowbird Saga. A word of warning: there's no 'Mech battles in this chapter. There is a lot of fighting, however! _

_Again, this story isn't per se Battletech canon. There was no offensive on Planting in December 3050; this is literary license. However, to those of you familiar with Michael Stackpole's _Blood of Kerensky_ saga, some of the events in this chapter will seem very familiar. Chronologically speaking, this entire short story takes place between Chapters 43 and 44 of _Lethal Heritage.

_Edwin Amis of the Eridani Light Horse, Scott Bradley of the Kell Hounds, and Dmja Sneuth of Wolf's Dragoons are all "real" Battletech characters; all others are my own invention. Likewise, don't go looking for the 133rd Falcon Fusiliers on any Clan Jade Falcon order of battle; they too are my own invention. After all, every good heroine needs a foil…_

**_THE FALCON AND THE SNOWBIRD_**

**_Part V of the Snowbird Saga_**

_WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE: It is December 3050. The Planting campaign rages on, even as Jaime Wolf calls the leaders of the Inner Sphere–both new and old–to Outreach. Elsewhere, the war has entered a lull, as the Clans consolidate their gains. Even now, no one in the Inner Sphere quite knows what they are. On Planting, Calla's invasion across Blackett Strait has been a success, cutting the Jade Falcons in half, trapping one Cluster between the Kell Hounds and the 20th Arcturan Guards on the Tel Akbir Peninsula, and putting two Clusters between the Sentinels to the east and the Eridani Light Horse to the west. The offensive has ground to a halt, however, as the worst winter to hit Planting in 20 years forces both sides to hunker down in freezing weather, high winds, and giant snowdrifts._

_As for the Snowbirds, Sheila Arla-Vlata has somewhat come to terms with her near-death at Fort Pilum, and plans to marry Maximillian Canis as soon as Planting's capital, Second Try, falls. However, the weather is clearing, and with it, Sheila's life will change forever..._

_Sentinel Headquarters Planting, Lexington Green_

_Planting, Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth_

_5 December 3050_

Calla Bighorn-Vlata turned to face his battalion and company commanders. "And that's pretty much the situation, people." He pointed to the holomap. "The Jade Falcons hold Second Try with what appears to be two Clusters, reinforced by a second-line battalion of foot infantry. We've tentatively identified the Clusters as the 4th Falcon Velites and the 133rd Falcon Fusiliers, reinforced by something called the Peregrine Galaxy Keshik. I'm still waiting on information to confirm that." Calla could not resist a quick scan of the room. _Dammit, where is she..._

He concentrated on the briefing. "This group holds Second Try and the Hillbork Forest, which gives them a secure line of supply through the DropPort by keeping us out of artillery range. We can't spare the aerospace fighters to try and bring down one of their DropShips, so they can resupply at will."

He touched a button on the holotank, and the map zoomed in on Second Try. "As everyone knows, the city is the largest on Planting, spanning both sides of the Hyannis River. It's an old city, built around the cathedral and the old district capital complex. The city fathers designed it to resemble Cologne back on old Terra, and they succeeded. Narrow streets, a lot of stone and concrete housing, densely wooded parklands. Basically, it's every MechWarrior's worst nightmare."

"It's no fun for tankers either," Richard Cannon chimed in from the back. He was the commander of the Sentinels' Tank Battalion.

"True enough, Dick." Calla looked to his left. "Colonel Amis, I'll let you handle the city defenses."

Colonel Edwin Amis of the Eridani Light Horse's 21st Striker Regiment nodded and stood. He had arrived a week ago to reinforce the 50th Heavy Cavalry Battalion, which had been on Planting from the start. "Thanks, Commander." He typed in commands on the holotank's keyboard, and suspected Clan positions were outlined in red. "It appears that our opposite number, whoever he or she may be, has planned to really turn this into a bloodbath. It's bad enough that the best approaches to the city are covered by the Hillbork Forest, which in itself is a perfect defense position–a lot of trees and broken ground, but not enough to impede 'Mechs. At least, not those in defensive positions.

"The ground to the west and east of Second Try consists of rolling hills with very little cover, gradually sloping down to Blackett Strait. We've seen a lot of work being done on the outskirts of the city–civilians being evacuated in a hurry, that sort of thing. It appears that the Jade Falcons have demolished all but the most well-built houses, clearing fields of fire, but leaving the rubble in place to form roadblocks. My guess is that they're going to chop us up at range if we come over those rolling hills, while we're floundering around in the snowdrifts. Once we reach the city, they'll use their infantry and their battleamor to slow us down in the suburbs. Apparently, they've gathered one of the Clusters in the center of the city to react to any breakthrough, and to counterattack."

A hand went up, and Calla saw that it was Gnea Carabinera, one of his most experienced company commanders. Once Amis nodded, she stood. "If the Cluster's in the center of the city, why don't we just run a couple of airstrikes over it? We flatten the city center."

"You're talking about a lot of civilian casualties," Amis said.

Carabinera shrugged. "War is hell and peacetime is even worse, Colonel. We're going to kill a lot of them if it degenerates into a city fight. The sooner we get it over with, the less people die." There were nods around the room; Carabinera was the Sentinels' resident city-fighting expert. "And with all the rubble we leave in the center of the city, it'll delay what reinforcements they can bring up."

"The AFFC has a prohibition against undue civilian damage, Major." This came from Alexander van Thorn, the Sentinels' AFFC liasion.

"They can court-martial me," Carabinera replied. "I'll do my time on Justice if it means less of my boys and girls get killed."

Elizabeth Dowlings stood up next, the blonde-haired commander of the Sentinels Aerowing. "Aye, Major, I agree wi' ye. The problem is, it's a moot point. I'm lucky if I c'n maintain air superiority o'er our own lines. The Jade Falcon aeropilots are good. I might noot be able to do all o' this damage ye refer to, 'cause I'll be too busy dodgin' Clan lead aimed at me arse." Chuckles followed her as she sat. "And that's assumin' the bloody weather clears."

"Well, that's the good news," Calla said. "We've got a high front blowing in from the north. It should warm up to about ten degrees Centigrade by the day after tomorrow, maybe even melt some of the snow. Anyway, we'll have clear skies."

Amis crossed his arms over his chest. "We don't have a set plan on how to crack this yet...that's what this meeting is for. So–any ideas?"

Todd Canis stood and walked up to the holotank. "The way I see it, the one advantage we do have is numbers. We can afford to hit them from both sides. I say we throw out a battalion at the Hillbork Forest as a diversion to pin down the Falcon units there–maybe the 50th. Then we throw two battalions at them from either side, and leave one battalion in reserve to reinforce whoever has the most success."

"Those attacking battalions are going to take heavy casualties," Amis cautioned.

"I know, Colonel, I know. We just have to grin and bear it. High-speed run across the hills–the two battalions should get enough 'Mechs through to get into the suburbs. Then we pass the reserve battalion through the other two battalions and take the city center. If we can get some airstrikes and artillery prep on the Clan defenses, we might be able to keep their heads down. And if the leading edge has jumpjets, the snow won't slow them down hardly at all."

More nods and murmurs from the crowd. Jumpjets were one thing the Clans seemed to be short of on their 'Mechs, and vertical envelopments–which was military parlance for jumping behind someone–was not a tactic the Clans often used.

Calla stood up, getting ready to add his own comments, when the back door opened, letting in a blast of frigid air. Someone shouted at the perpetrator to shut the pneumonia hole, and the door closed. Calla smiled; his daughter had finally arrived.

"Sorry I'm late," Sheila Arla-Vlata announced, pulling her hood and woolen cap off her head, exposing her night-black hair. "We have a guest." She stepped aside; her six-foot height had hidden the much smaller woman behind her. "This is Major Dmja Sneuth, of the Wolf's Dragoons' Seventh Kommando Unit."

Sneuth came to ramrod attention and saluted, palm-down in the Davion fashion. She was short, with red hair cut in a pageboy, and rather attractive. The mention of the Seventh Kommando, however, sent an electric shock through the room. The unit was the elite special forces group of Wolf's Dragoons, already considered the best unit in the Inner Sphere. It also meant that this little woman was most likely capable of killing half the people in the room quickly and silently, before the other half could react.

Calla returned the salute. "Glad to see you, Major. We can certainly use the Dragoons' help."

Sneuth gave him a wan smile. "Sorry to disappoint you, sir. I'm alone."

"Great. A JAFO," Carabinera smirked.

"A what?" Sneuth asked, confused.

"Just Another Fucking Observer," Catherine Houndlikov explained, with a be-silent glance at Carabinera.

She ignored it. "You've got five regiments of _supposedly_ the best unit in the Inner Sphere," Carabinera continued. "And you're sitting on your duff on Outreach. What are you waiting for, Christmas?"

Sneuth spread her hands. "I'm sorry, Major Carabinera. I'm just a messenger." She patted the oversized pockets of her winter coat. "I have a message in here for Commander Bighorn-Vlata and Colonel Scott Bradley."

"Scott's over at Tel Akbir," Calla said. "We're all friends here, Major."

"I have my orders, sir. Whether you choose to tell everyone later is your concern, but I'm supposed to brief you, and your battalion commanders, alone." She leaned against the wall. "I'm sorry to have interrupted the meeting."

Carabinera bit back a scathing reply when Calla raised a hand. It was obvious that Sneuth was not going to be moved. "Very well." He turned to Sheila. "Commander, were you successful? I mean your patrol, not in escorting Major Sneuth here."

Sheila nodded. "Yes, sir." She looked at Todd. "There's a snag on your plan, Commander Canis. The Clans have got vibromine fields out there. One of my guys triggered it when he slipped and fell in a snowdrift. His _Atlas_ set off a whole bunch of them, which means they were probably set for considerably lighter weight."

"Shit," Amis said.

"Yeah," Todd agreed. "There goes our jump plan. They'll jump right into the field, and there's no way we'll see them in the snow."

"Any idea as to who exactly we're facing?" Calla asked.

"Yes, sir," Sheila replied. "We were able to decode some of their radio chatter. It's like we thought–it's the 4th Velites and the 133rd Fusiliers. The 2nd Jaegers are the one giving the Hounds fits up at Tel Akbir. Apparently the commander of that unit is someone named Marthe Pryde, and she is a tiger."

"No shit," Calla sighed. "What about that Peregrine Keshik thing?"

"We know they're organized as Clusters, their equivalent to a regiment. Well, they have Galaxies, which are like divisions or brigades, I suppose. A Keshik is the command unit for a Galaxy." She paused. "This one's commanded by our old friend Cavell Malthus. He's a saKhan, which Major Sneuth tells me is the second in command of a Clan."

"Great, we're going up against the varsity now," Todd groaned. "This gets better and better."

"How the hell did you know that?" Carabinera demanded, looking daggers at Sneuth.

The Dragoon shifted uncomfortably. "Just because the Dragoons are sitting on our ass, as you say, doesn't mean Wolfnet is," she said at length. Wolfnet was Jaime Wolf's private intelligence service, which no one knew much about, other than it existed and was usually accurate.

"Anything else you care to share?" Calla growled.

Sneuth shook her head. "No, sir. I remember reading a report on that just before I left Outreach, that's all."

Amis turned to Calla. "You know this Malthus guy?"

"Yeah. We ran into him on Persistence. After the battle at Steinbeck Repair Facility, he and I met. He was offering us something he called hegira–honorable retreat, or so he said. We got to leave without further trouble, he got the planet."

"Sounds like a reasonable fellow."

Calla grinned. "Could be. He might also be pissed at us. We blew up the repair facility as we left, and I think he really wanted it intact. If the Clanners really are as hung up on honor as the Kuritans are, then we sort of screwed him over." Calla looked around. "Well, let's put our heads together and try and work up something. Major Sneuth, since you came all this way through the freezing season outside, then I suppose I owe you a hearing. I want Colonel Amis to hear what you have to say, though."

Sneuth knew how far she could push. "Sir."

Todd Canis looked up from the holotank. "Tell me later, Calla. Unless the Dragoons are doing a combat drop in the next 48 hours, it can wait." He ignored Sneuth's angry look.

"Okay. Cathy, Sheila?" Calla motioned the two women over.

"Me?" Sheila blurted.

"Last I recall, you were still a battalion commander," Calla grinned. "I haven't busted you yet."

"Right." Sheila blushed, feeling stupid. She was still getting used to commanding the Snowbirds. Lately, they had been operating away from the rest of the regiment, running patrols and the occasional foray into Clan lines. Marion Rhialla referred to it as "cattle raiding," which Sheila liked.

Calla led the three women and Amis to an alcove of the wine cellar that was the Sentinels' temporary headquarters. "Okay, Major, this is as secure as it's going to get." He leaned against a large wine barrel.

"Yes, sir." She pulled out an envelope and handed it to Calla. It was stamped with the distinctive snarling wolf's head of the Dragoons. Calla broke the seal and looked over the letter. Sheila saw the sheen of a hologram at the bottom, where Jaime Wolf's signature was. It was verigraphed, which was impossible to forge. It meant that whatever was in the letter, it was important. Calla read it, looked up at Sneuth, then read it again. "All right, Major. Why the hell does Jaime want me on Outreach by 15 January? He is aware that we're sort of at war."

"Yes, Commander." Sneuth's smile returned. "He said that you would probably have this wrapped up by then. He thinks that the Jade Falcons are fighting a delaying action. If they can't win at Second Try, they'll probably pull back."

Calla looked down at the letter again. "Jaime usually knows what he's talking about. I just hope he's right."

"I hope we have something left to hold Planting with," Amis said. "This attack is going to be a cast-iron bitch."

Sneuth opened her mouth to say something, but then seemed to have second thoughts, and said nothing. Before Calla or Sheila could ask why, Houndlikov spoke up. "So what's it say, Calla?"

He handed her the letter. "In so many words, he's inviting me and whoever I want to bring to Outreach for a strategy meeting on the Clan War. And it looks like everyone is going to be there."

"Everyone?" Sheila asked.

"He's not joking," Houndlikov supplied. "According to this, representatives from all the Houses and bigger merc units will be there." She glanced at Amis. "I would imagine a letter is going to Ariana Winston, Ed." She referred to the commander of the Eridani Light Horse. "And the Kell Puppies, Evelina Haskell's Centauri Lancers, the GDL...maybe Big Mac and the Urakhai, too." Sneuth nodded.

"Why us?" Calla asked. "The other units have been around awhile, or have a pedigree a mile long. "We've only been a regiment since 3040, and we're about as mongrel as they come. Sure, I was with Jaime on Crossing, but..."

"And Colonel Wolf remembers that, Commander," Sneuth replied. "The Sentinels did the Dragoons a service."

Calla shrugged. "All we did was loan Zeta Battalion a couple of DropShips..."

"_And_ hit the 15th Galedon from behind," Houndlikov added. "Don't shortchange us, Calla. Sure, we were only a demi-battalion, but we still scared hell out of the Snakes." She winked at Sneuth. "Not that the Dragoons needed our help."

"There's also the matter that the Sentinels are one of the most experienced units on the Clan front," Sneuth said.

"Commander Arla-Vlata here has been in five campaigns, including this one–Persistence, Rasalhague, Blackjack, Twycross, and here. I know of very few others who can claim that distinction."

"Sheila just can't get enough of it." Houndlikov sniffed a laugh. "She's been rustling Malthus' cattle, I hear." Sheila didn't know what to say to that, so she just looked at the floor. "Nothing to be ashamed of, child. But Outreach would be a great place for a honeymoon."

"Commander!" Sheila exclaimed. "So much for secrecy."

"Oh, the regiment knows all about it. I imagine Wolfnet does too, but then Major Sneuth here probably knows what color panties I'm wearing today."

"You made your point, Cathy." Calla knew that Houndlikov was merely needling Sneuth, trying to get the woman to lose her temper. "Well, Major Sneuth, tell Jaime that, assuming I don't get killed in the next month or ball this up and get my regiment wiped out, I'll be there. And that I would consider it a great favor if my daughter and her husband-to-be have the honeymoon suite at the Harlech Hilton reserved. Assuming Romano Liao isn't using it for a seance or something."

Sneuth smiled at the joke. "Yes, sir, I'll arrange it."

"Romano's going to be there? God, don't tell Rhialla. She's liable to go on a killing spree." Houndlikov had to get in the last word. "Major, tell that old bitch Natasha Kerensky that I'm still ahead two falls out of three when it comes to tequila shooters, and if she wants to collect, she knows where to find me."

Sneuth hesitantly nodded. Calla asked Sheila to find Sneuth a billet, but as Sheila was leading the Dragoon away, Sneuth suddenly turned back. "Commander, Colonel, I may have something you can use for Second Try."

"Well, by all means, let's hear it," Amis answered.

She looked around furtively, then lowered her voice. "You might be able to take Second Try without a big battle."

Calla put his hands on his hips and leaned forward. "Mind telling us how?"

"I shouldn't be telling you this," Sneuth said, her face turning red with embarassment now. "But I've...I've heard from some of the other Dragoons that the Clans have this thing called a Trial of Possession. It's like a trial by combat or something. Basically, one side offers to duel the other, and whoever wins possesses the prize, hence the name. It allows two units to keep their honor and win a victory without destroying each other."

"That makes sense," Sheila said. "They always ask us what we want to bid before a battle."

"Their asking bit before the campaign begins," Amis nodded.

"Well, that too," Sheila answered, "but the 'Mech commander I fought at Fort Pilum asked me what I was bidding to fight him. He may have been offering me a Trial of Possession, but I didn't know it." She looked at Sneuth. "One of his MechWarriors jumped out in front and offered to duel someone, anyone. Marion Rhialla shot him, and the fight was on."

Calla held up a hand. "So let me get this straight, Major. I meet Cavell Malthus under a flag of truce and offer to do a Trial of Possession for Second Try. If he accepts, and he'd be crazy to, and we win, he just ups and leaves?"

"As far as I know, yes. If you win a fair fight, he's honor-bound to."

"And I thought the Snakes were dumb," Houndlikov put in. "You're supposed to leave honor at home in your locker with your dress uniform."

"What kind of fight?" Sheila asked. "'Mech fight?"

"As far as I know, anything you like, as long as both sides agree to it."

"Snowball fight," Houndlikov grinned.

"Cathy, dammit, this is serious." Calla was not smiling.

"Come on, Calla, you said it yourself. He'd be a fool to do this."

"Not necessarily," Sheila said, earning herself a withering look from Houndlikov. "Just about every Clanner I've met so far has been pretty arrogant–or at least very sure of themselves. Why not? They usually pound us into the pavement, unless we manage to get the drop on them, or just dogpile them with numbers. We come forward offering to duel him on his terms, on his turf, he's going to think he can beat us."

"He might be right," Calla replied. "Man for man, their MechWarriors are better than ours."

"Then again, they might be so overconfident that we win," Amis said. "And if we make the offer and he turns us down, his buddies are going to be asking why. And we can ask him why he's afraid to fight us." He grinned at Houndlikov. "I'm sure we can find someone who's very effective at that."

Houndlikov's grin widened. "Damn straight."

"Do you know how we go about it?" Calla asked Sneuth.

"No."

"You don't know, or you won't tell?"

"I don't know," Sneuth almost pleaded. "Please, Commander, when Colonel Wolf finds out I've told you this much, I'm in for it as it is!"

"Okay, okay. Fair enough. Sheila, take Major Sneuth to her quarters. I may drop by later."

Sheila didn't like the idea of being left out of the decision, but she saluted in any case and led Sneuth off.

"She may not know," Houndlikov told Calla, "but it's damn sure that Jaime Wolf is holding a few cards back. How the hell does he know all this? He _knows_ who the Clans are, Calla. I'd stake my diamonds on it."

"Doesn't matter," Calla replied. "If we can pull off this Trial of Possession thing, and spare us having to go through those snowdrifts and those vibrobombs, then I'll kiss his ass on top of the _Chieftain_ and give him an hour and a half to draw a crowd."


	2. Batchall

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Short chapter this time, but to make it longer would ruin the next chapters, so here you go. Incidentally, for those of you who care, this is the first chapter I've written where the Clans take center stage and we see the war more or less from their point of view._

_ I believe that, in Battletech canon, Vandervahn Chistu was the saKhan of the Jade Falcons. I've changed this slightly so that it is the character of Cavell Malthus. Cavell is a canon Battletech character, and was the Jade Falcon representative at Phelan Kell's Trial of Adoption, detailed in the last chapter of _Lethal Heritage._ There is a literary reason why I do this. Really. Trust me. Again, the fact that the Jade Falcons are on Planting at all isn't canon either, but that is explained in this chapter._

_ Marion Rhialla's medal—the snarling tiger—indicates that she is a member of the Order of Tamar Tigers, awarded for exceptional bravery while fighting in the Tamar March. Rhialla is rapidly becoming one of my favorite characters to write: a female version of Clint Eastwood's character in _Heartbreak Ridge.

_As always, thanks for the reviews. Kat, this chapter should answer your question. SulliMike, the Dragoons actually just invited Calla Bighorn-Vlata to the Outreach conference; the Snowbirds aren't mentioned. But Jaime Wolf hasn't forgotten about Sheila, either._

_Peregrine Keshik Headquarters, Second Try_

_Planting, Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth_

_6 December 3050_

SaKhan Cavell Malthus watched the snow fall gently to the ground outside his headquarters. He had set up in an old museum, because it appealed both to his sense of history and aesthetics. Malthus considered himself somewhat above his fellow warriors, some of whom seemed to live to only stomp around in the mud and fight until they died. Malthus had long ago decided that a violent death awaited him, but until then, he saw no reason to simply devote his time to war, food, coupling, and sleep. He planned on leaving his Clan more than simply a genetic legacy and a note in the Remembrance, the epic poem that all Clans kept as a record.

He glanced at the sky, which was a light gray. Sunshine crept through gaps, and Malthus knew that the sunshine heralded a warming trend. It would melt the snow, which might expose his trap for the Inner Sphere forces. Some of his commanders had been angry at his use of vibromines, preferring to attack and conquer, or die in the process. Malthus shook his head. Not only would it be a waste of materiel and warriors, it would avail Clan Jade Falcon nothing. The Federated Commonwealth forces would still take Planting. They probably would in any case. Malthus had no intention of fighting until the death. Planting belonged in the Wolf Clan's invasion corridor; the Falcons had seen an opportunity to quickly take the planet earlier in the year, before the AFFC could organize a proper defense. But now that they had returned in force, Malthus had little trouble deciding to cede the world to them, and then let the Wolves spend their blood to take it back. Of course, he planned to make it a very bloody victory for the Inner Sphere, and so far he was succeeding.

There was a knock at the door. "Come in," Malthus said, without turning.

He heard boots against the polished marble floor, then the smack of synthleather as someone came to attention. He turned slowly, and smiled. It was Star Colonel Senefa, looking resplendent even in her thickly-padded brown and green field uniform. "Sir," she said. "There is someone here to see you from the AFFC forces." Senefa looked momentarily confused. "She came under a white flag, and will speak only to you. I had no idea what else to do, so I brought her here."

Malthus raised an eyebrow. "Has she been searched for weapons?"

"Aff, ovkhan. All she carried was a knife. I told her she could retrieve it later."

Intrigued, Malthus put his hands on his hips. "Show her in. This should prove interesting, quiaff? Remain here, Senefa."

"Aff, ovkhan." Senefa turned and barked an order at the two hulking unarmored Elementals standing guard at the door. There was the brief sound of a scuffle, along with a harsh voice proclaiming that she would not be pawed at. Malthus put his hands behind his back and waited.

The woman that walked into the office was dressed entirely in white and powder blue. Covering her left breast were campaign ribbons that showed this woman had seen a great deal of combat, even if her face did not reveal that fact. Malthus was slightly taken aback by the warrior's age; she was easily in her forties, well past the age that Clan warriors either died or acted as sibko trainers. He was particularly intrigued by a decoration below her campaign ribbons that showed a snarling tiger in a field of opaline blue. The woman came to attention but did not salute. Malthus quickly took in the way she leaned forward slightly, the tenseness in her body, the way her gray-speckled hair was combed over her shoulders, and the glint in her eyes. This was an old but dangerous warrior. Briefly, he thought of the recently-returned Natasha Kerensky of Clan Wolf.

"Are you saKhan Cavell Malthus?" the woman said without preamble.

Malthus nodded. "Aff."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "Is that a yes or a no?"

Malthus resisted the urge to smile or laugh, though he saw the Elementals and Senefa going to great lengths not to do so. It was too easy to see these people as barbarians; apparently the lessons learned on Twycross had not sunk in yet. "Yes," Malthus replied.

"Good." The woman drew herself up to her height. "I am Major Marion Rhialla, of the Snowbirds Special Missions Combined Arms Team, Sentinels Regimental Combat Team. I have the honor of representing Commander Calla Bighorn-Vlata, acting commander, Task Force Planting, and speak on his behalf." The words sounded rehearsed.

"Your message?" Malthus asked, in an even tone.

Rhialla took a deep breath. "Commander Bighorn-Vlata wishes to ask what forces defend Second Try."

Malthus could not help smiling at the looks of shock on the faces of the other Falcons in the room. _So, they will fight honorably after all._ "Are you here to negotiate a batchall?"

Rhialla looked a little lost. "I'm here to deliver a challenge, saKhan. A Trial of Possession."

Malthus stiffened slightly, and saw Senefa's mouth drop open. The Spheroids were learning, and learning fast. "Do you know what you are asking, Major?" He suspected she did not.

Rhialla shrugged. "I suppose so. It's a duel. We negotiate–I think you call it a 'bid'–what forces we're going to stake. Then we fight it out. Last man standing wins the fight, and Second Try. Right so far?"

"Aff–yes." He nodded. "I will require some time to speak with my officers. Please inform Commander Bighorn-Vlata that I am honored by his request, and will respond within twenty-four hours, if that is acceptable." Malthus paused. "Tell him as well that I would like to meet face-to-face, under a flag of truce, in twenty-four hours. I will present my answer to him then, quiaff?"

Rhialla's lips curved into a snarl. "So you can get all of us together and kill us? Fuck that." There were gasps from the Elementals and Senefa. They knew what the swear word meant, and it had far greater impact in Clan society than in the Inner Sphere.

With effort, Malthus controlled his temper. "I will be there as well, Major. If my forces fire on yours, I will be in as much danger as your commander." He let out a long, angry breath. "Your commander is a honorable man. He will understand."

"Very well. Tomorrow, then. I'll deliver the message. If we're not there, don't hold your breath. Any further instructions?" Malthus gave one shake of his head. "Good." She turned to one of the Elementals. "Escort me back to the perimeter." The tone was commanding, and the Elemental automatically came to attention. Rhialla glanced over her shoulder. "The last Clan son of a bitch that challenged me, I put a Gauss round through his head. I just wanted you to know that." She snapped off a parade-style salute, and strode out, leaving the Elementals to catch up. Senefa closed the door behind them. She turned to her Khan, about to launch into a tirade on the dishonor and sickening ways of the Inner Sphere, but to her surprise, Malthus was chuckling.

"Sir?"

Malthus grinned. "There, Star Colonel, goes a warrior. Despite her foul tongue, she is a leader of men, and has no fear. Deep in her enemy's camp, she is not afraid to hurl an insult into our face."

"She knew we would not hurt an envoy."

"Does she?" Malthus' eyebrow raised again. "Remember, to they, we are the barbarians." He looked down at his desk, and the old paper map spread over it. "Assemble the Trinary commanders, Star Colonel. We need to bid for what force we will use."

Senefa hesitated, then came to attention. "Permission to speak freely, ovkhan."

"Granted."

"I think that this Commander Bighorn-Vlata has gotten hold of a little information about our ways, and hopes to turn it to his advantage."

Malthus nodded. "Of course he has. He also knows that I am honor-bound to reply, quiaff? I cannot deny them that right. To do so would imply that I am afraid of losing."

"We cannot lose–"

Malthus held up a finger. "On the contrary, Star Colonel. We _can_ lose. The Smoke Jaguars thought the same way on Wolcott, and it cost them heavily. Naturally, if we lose Second Try, we have lost Planting. There is no other good defensive ground, and once we are clear of the city, we will undoubtedly be set upon. The word you are looking for is that we should not lose, quiaff?"

"Aff." Senefa paused. "Ovkhan, do you trust the Sentinels to not assassinate you tomorrow?"

"Aff. To some of these Spheroids, I think honor is merely a word. Perhaps even to that Major Rhialla. But Calla Bighorn-Vlata, I know. He has been scrupulous in treating our prisoners well. He has not interfered with our medics."

"What about Persistence, and the other unit–the Eridani Light Horse?"

"Persistence, he had little choice. He was a soldier, and he has his orders from his Archon. The Eridani traces a direct lineage back to the old Star League. We can trust their honor–even when they refused to join the great Kerenskys on their Exodus, their reply was eloquent and honorable." Malthus shrugged. "It is a small matter. If I die, then the Clan will find someone else, and the fight for Second Try will be that much harder. Calla is no fool. He will not break the truce."

Senefa nodded. "I understand. Then I ask of my Khan a favor."

"What is it?"

"I would like to represent our Clan."

"That is up to the bidding."

Senefa shook her head, a small smile on her lips. "Neg. I know of a way to win the bidding, unsettle the barbarians, and if not guarantee our victory, then to make it more likely."

Malthus sat down. "By all means, Star Colonel, explain." When she had finished, Malthus' grin was back, fuller than before.


	3. On the Field of Honor

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Chapter Three. More Trial of Possession goodness. _

_I'm guessing that the Clans would remember the decision of the Eridani Light Horse to remain behind in the Inner Sphere rather than join Kerensky, so I added that in. The "rules" of the Trial are taken from both _Blood Legacy_ and _Wolves on the Border. _Finally, I admit to no little inspiration from the Fort William Henry surrender scene in _Last of the Mohicans.

_Kat, here's your answer. Rouge, I'll have to introduce Vandervahn Chistu at a later date. However, the fact that he becomes the Jade Falcons' saKhan in future years (before he gets offed by Vlad Ward, of course) doesn't bode well for Cavell Malthus. Maybe there's a reason why he's never mentioned in the books past _Lethal Heritage…

_Hinata Plains, northwest of Second Try_

_Planting, Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth_

_7 December 3050_

Marion Rhialla stared through her binoculars. "Here they come."

Calla Bighorn-Vlata raised his own binoculars. "You expected less?"

"I expected an ambush," Marion growled. "You sure are putting a lot of faith in their honor."

Calla sighed. "Marion, that's the way these people work. If we challenged a Kurita samurai, he'd do the same thing."

"Sure, but we _know_ the Snakes. For all we know, ambush is all part of the ritual."

Calla smiled. "Where's your faith, Marion?"

Marion snorted. "My faith is in those." She pointed at the twin Gauss Rifles on her _Perennium._ "We're sitting ducks out here."

"So are they." Calla's voice held just enough of an edge in it that Marion knew the conversation was over, and she fell into a sulky silence.

Calla looked behind him. Drawn up in a line behind him were twelve BattleMechs, a lance drawn from each battalion, the best each could offer, as decided by that battalion in a bit of hasty voting the night before. Since the Clans had not been sighted deploying tanks, Cannon had to remain behind, which did not sit well with the tank crews. The Sentinel Light Infantry was there, however, drawn up in a line before the 'Mechs, in full battle gear. At their head was Calla's wife, Arla. Calla had set out a small field table and a white tent, placing the flags of the Sentinels and its battalions around it, as well as those of the Eridani Light Horse; whose 'Mechs and infantry waited in a line parallel to the Sentinels'. Edwin Amis caught Calla's eye, nodded, and stubbed out a cigarette. Both of them were wearing full dress uniforms, as Marion had the day before; both men had set large silver hammers on the table–McKennsy Hammers, awarded for superb tactics in battle by the Lyran half of the Federated Commonwealth.

The rumble of 'Mech footfalls reached them, shaking the ground. Calla counted off fifteen 'Mechs, and about three times as many Elementals, the battlesuits walking forward with the 'Mechs. Among the 'Mechs he recognized a _Thor, _a _Masakari_, a _Daishi_, and a _Mad Cat._ He was glad he had overridden proposals to simply open fire the moment the Clans came into range; with such a force, he was facing even odds at best. The Jade Falcons too were flying banners from their 'Mechs, the largest being flown from the _Daishi_, showing the Clan's now-familiar symbol–a green falcon, clutching a katana, against a blue and black background.

The ground shook progressively harder, then stopped when the 'Mechs did. The Elementals walked another twenty paces, then came to attention in a single line matching that of the SLI and the Eridani infantry. About ninety meters separated the two forces. The Elemental line parted, two warriors stepping forward to break the line. With parade-ground precision, they reformed to either side of two men and two women. One of the men Calla instantly recognized as Khan Cavell Malthus.

"I guess that's our cue," Calla said. He nodded at Amis, Rhialla, and Arla, and walked out into the open space to meet Malthus. He had a sudden sense of history: this was how it had been done in ancient times, not long after the invention of muskets, when war was more or less a formalized sport. He half-wished he had a hat that he could doff as he bowed to his honorable enemy.

He stopped what he figured was a reasonable distance. Malthus and his officers did the same. Both sides stood in silence, measuring the others, then Calla came to attention, saluting. The Clanfolk also came to attention, and returned the salute.

"Commander Calla Bighorn-Vlata?" Cavell Malthus said. "You have done well since Persistence, quiaff?"

Calla had no idea what quiaff meant, but decided it was not an insult. "So have you, Khan Cavell Malthus," he replied. "Maybe somewhat better than I."

Malthus smiled. "It appears so, though it is I that is on the defensive today." He put out a hand. Calla looked at it for a moment, inwardly shrugged, and shook hands with his enemy. "These are my officers–my second in command, Galaxy Commander Angeline Mattlov; Star Colonel Evak Mattlov of the 4th Falcon Velites, and Star Colonel Senefa of the 133rd Falcon Fusiliers." He motioned in turn to an older, scarred woman with gray hair, a tough-looking young man, and a young woman that Calla estimated was Sheila's age. All three were dressed in what was obviously a dress uniform, a rather smart-looking outfit of bright yellow and dark green, legs tucked into polished boots, with a green cape attached by talon-like yellow claws. Like the Sentinels, rank was worn on the collars, with a patch apparently denoting a MechWarrior on the left sleeve, below that of the Clan insignia. It was the young woman that took Calla back for a moment; except for her hairstyle, which had one tail of black hair pulled over her right shoulder, a slightly narrower nose, and a haughty, raptorlike expression, Star Colonel Senefa could pass for Sheila Arla-Vlata's sister.

Calla introduced his officers in turn. No eyebrows were raised at the mention of Arla's last name; apparently the Clanfolk either failed to notice the marital link or ignored it. All of the Falcons seemed eager to shake Amis' hand, Malthus remarking that the reputation of the Eridani Light Horse had preceded him. Marion Rhialla made no move to shake hands, but neither did the Falcons towards her; in fact, Calla noticed, it seemed that Marion and Angeline Mattlov were sizing each other up for a fight. Since everyone wore pistols as far as Calla could tell–though Arla also carried the SLI's traditional naginata–there was a real chance that one or the other might provoke an old-fashioned gun battle.

Malthus must have noticed it as well, for he cleared his throat. "You have challenged me to a Trial of Possession, Commander. I am assuming that you know something of what that means, but not all of what it entails."

Calla decided that he could not lie his way out of it. "You assume correctly, Khan Malthus."

"There is no dishonor in ignorance. You have shown yourself willing to fight with honor, therefore, I am honor-bound to do the same." Malthus put his hands behind his back, setting his feet apart. He was shorter than Calla, who stood with one leg placed forward of the other, arms folded across his chest. "The rules are simple. We declare what forces we shall use, what we call a batchall."

Calla held up a hand. "And then we bid until we won't bid any lower, and go at it. Right?"

Malthus smiled and nodded. "Yes. You are very well informed."

"It's my business to stay informed about my enemy." It was getting entirely too friendly for Calla, who suspected that one day he might have to kill this man with the easy smile and smart uniform.

"Quite true. As the challenged, I bid first." Malthus glanced at his officers, then back to Calla. His smile turned feral, and for a moment he actually did resemble a jade falcon, swooping down on prey. "I bid a single warrior." He pointed to Star Colonel Senefa, who stepped forward to stand at parade rest next to her Khan.

"You _what?"_ Rhialla exclaimed.

"You heard me correctly, Major. A single warrior." Malthus' smile was maddening.

"I was right," Rhialla sneered, turning to Arla. "They _are_ fucking crazy."

Senefa's face darkened. "I will fight all of you, if necessary. Alone or in groups. And I will win."

Seeing that Rhialla was about to take her up on it, Calla said quickly, "Let me consult with my officers," and pulled them into a circle out of the Falcons' earshot, feeling their eyes on his back and the unspoken jeers. Malthus had neatly outmanuevered him, and reminded Calla that he was playing on the Clansman's turf.

"Well, that's an unforeseen turn of events," Amis whispered, grinning.

"Maybe a good one," Rhiallla said. "With twenty-four 'Mechs, we'll stomp that snooty bitch a new one and drink beer in Second Try tonight."

"Or maybe not," Arla replied. "She's young, Marion, and she's already a Star Colonel. That means she's good. And she's confident of herself and her 'Mech that she can win." She looked at her husband. "Calla, we can't throw everything we have at her. We'll make a mockery of this whole Trial thing. If we have to use this in the future, the Clans will never trust us."

"I agree," Amis said. "We laugh at their funny ideas of honor, but we've bought into it by standing on the field with them." He glanced back at the Falcons. "I say we match their bid."

"With one warrior?" Arla asked, her eyes wide. "I had in mind a lance–that's a little more fair."

"I agree, but this will set them back. They won't be expecting us to do the same, and that might rattle them. And one warrior might be able to do better than four. A lance of MechWarriors will get in each other's way." He shrugged. "Besides, if we lose, it sounds a lot better that we lost in single combat than if we lost four to one."

"Who's the warrior we get to bid?" Calla asked.

"I volunteer," Rhialla said. "I'll take that little pup apart."

"What if she wants to fight someone of equal rank?" Arla asked.

"In that case, I'll do it," Amis said, straightening up. "I've been around the block a few times, and if I get killed, you can replace me a hell of a lot easier than they can replace you, Calla."

"Agreed, then." Calla took a deep breath as they returned to face the Falcons. Malthus waited patiently. "Okay, Khan Malthus. We'll match your bid. One warrior it is."

Malthus' eyebrows raised, and even the other Falcons looked surprised. "Single combat? I am impressed. Since we cannot bid any lower, the bid is accepted. Who is your warrior?"

"Do you require someone of equal rank?"

Malthus shook his head. "It is not necessary, though it is traditional, to show respect."

Amis started to walk forward, but Senefa suddenly spoke, to Calla. "Commander, I am a MechWarrior. I will fight any of your warriors, in a 'Mech or outside of it, but I request the right to fight another MechWarrior." Malthus stared at Senefa; it was not unknown to request an opponent, but it was usually up to the challenger what or whom to bid.

"I figured that," Calla replied. "You'll be fighting another MechWarrior."

"Ah. Thank you," Senefa said, her face actually lightening. "Commander, I pilot a _Summoner._" She pointed to her 'Mech. Calla recognized it as what the Inner Sphere called a _Thor._ "It is seventy tons. I will fight in a 'Mech half that weight or less, if I can fight that MechWarrior, there."

Calla followed her outstretched finger. It was pointing directly at Sheila Arla-Vlata's _Shruiken._

* * *

"She wants to fight me?" Sheila asked, hurriedly changing into a dress uniform behind her 'Mech. Luckily Calla had required all his personnel to bring one. "Why?"

"She recognizes you from Pascia Grove," Arla replied. "She knows you're a gifted warrior, or so she says."

"I always knew piloting a unique 'Mech was going to bite me in the butt someday," Sheila sighed. "And Dad agreed to this?"

"Not without some prodding."

"From who? Marion?"

"No. Me." Arla helped her daughter pull on her cape, meeting her eyes. "I don't do this because I want you to risk your life, daughter. It gives us a significant advantage. Your _Shruiken_ is seventy tons. If she fights in a forty-five tonner, that gives you at least equal armament, and from what we've seen, more than equal armor. Also, the Clans rarely use jumpjets, so you have an advantage there, as well."

"We'll also lose face if we back off."

Arla nodded, sadly. "Yes. I'm afraid this Star Colonel Senefa has put us in a position. Like the Kuritans, face means everything with these people. Still, I won't be angry at all if you decide not to go through with it." Sheila saw that her mother's eyes were pleading to tell her no, even if it all made sense tactically.

Yet Sheila knew she had been challenged, and one part of her wanted this fight. Not for the glory; Sheila had seen too many deaths and battles to really care much about medals anymore. It was for the same reason that she had never backed up from a fight in school, even when she lost them. No one would call her a coward, not even an enemy. "I'll do it, Mom."

Arla sighed again. "I thought you might say that. Let's go."

They walked towards the knot of people, still in the middle of the damp field. Arla nodded towards Star Colonel Senefa, and Sheila began looking over the person she would fight. To her surprise, Senefa looked not unlike herself. Their hair color and eyes were identical, as was their build, though Sheila noted that Senefa was more muscular. _Yeah, but my breasts are bigger, so there,_ Sheila ruefully thought. She also noticed that Senefa wore a holster, but instead of a pistol, it held a length of black metal. _Knowing my luck, it's a neural whip._

"I am Star Colonel Senefa of the 133rd Falcon Fusiliers," Senefa said by way of introduction. She did not offer her hand.

Neither did Sheila. "Lieutenant Commander Sheila Arla-Vlata, Snowbirds SMCAT, Sentinels RCAT," she replied simply.

Senefa glanced at Calla and Arla. "You are related to them?"

"My mother and my father."

Senefa looked somewhat sick. "Freebirth."

"Damn right," Sheila replied. "Born free on Grunwald, in the Lyran Commonwealth." She could see from the look on Senefa's face that she had missed something, but decided she didn't care.

Malthus held up his hands. Between the fingers of his right hand was a single coin, a kroner bearing the likeness of the deceased Archon Katrina Steiner. "The rules of a Trial are simple, Lieutenant Commander," he told Sheila. "Whoever wins the decision chooses the weapon to use–augumented or unaugumented."

"What's the difference?" Sheila asked.

"Augumented, you duel each other in your 'Mechs. Star Colonel Senefa has graciously consented to cede half her tonnage–"

"Tell her not to bother," Sheila interrupted, in a moment of vainglory she couldn't help. "I'll fight her seventy tons to seventy tons." She saw the look of horror on her parents' face, but the respect seeping into Senefa's expression was worth it. Marion's call of "Tell the bitch!" didn't hurt.

Malthus sketched a salute to her. "Very well. Unaugumented, you fight outside of your 'Mechs, with whatever weapons the opponents agree upon. The loser picks the venue. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Sheila answered.

"Good." Malthus stepped sideways, putting himself between Sheila and Senefa. "I am the Oathmaster," he intoned in a solemn voice. "These warriors here represent the best their respective units have to offer. They fight for possession of the city known as Second Try." He looked at Sheila. "If Lieutenant Commander Sheila Arla-Vlata wins the Trial, Clan Jade Falcon will cede to her this city." He turned to Senefa. "If Star Colonel Senefa is victorious, then the forces of the Federated Commonwealth have agreed to not occupy Second Try for three months time." Calla and Malthus had agreed on this while Arla had been collecting Sheila, though as Amis had said, Calla was gambling with money that was not his. Calla had replied that the stakes were high enough. Unspoken was that the Planting campaign probably rode on the decision, but Calla did not want to put any more pressure on Sheila, whom he was quite sure knew it already. "Thus the Trial will be fought. Do you concur in this?"

"Seyla," Senefa answered instantly.

"Concur," Sheila replied. The looks on the faces of the Falcons was enough for her to know that she had made a mistake.

"Then what transpires here will bind us until we all shall fall." He faced Senefa. "You are Senefa and you have seen twenty years. Why are you worthy to engage in this Trial?"

"I asked to represent the Clan in this Trial, which was agreed upon by my peers. I have fought on Persistence, Apollo, Golandrinas, and Beta VII, each time taking three 'Mechs in battle alone. I am of the Malthus bloodline, which stretches back to the founding of Clan Jade Falcon. I have consistently tested out at the top of my sibko, and have never been defeated either in single combat–augumented or unaugumented–nor in a Circle of Equals."

Malthus nodded, obviously pleased with Senefa, his protege. He then turned back to Sheila, his face neutral. "You are Sheila and you have seen nineteen years." Calla had supplied the information earlier as well. "Why are you worthy to engage in this Trial?"

Sheila had thought about what to say while Senefa had been rattling off her achievements. _Okay, let's see you take this with a smirk._ "I have fought the Jade Falcons and the Wolves since their invasion of my homeland, at Persistence, Rasalhague, Blackjack, and Twycross. I have destroyed five 'Mechs in single combat–" which was not quite true, since Max had helped on at least two of them "–and killed two Elementals in unarmed combat."

"Impossible," Angeline Mattlov blurted.

"Ask the Wolves, or the survivors of Fort Pilum," Sheila replied, trying to sound fearsome. "My bloodline is that of the Bighorn-Vlatas, which can be traced fifteen generations of MechWarriors back to Karelia Bighorn-Vlata, who fought with the Black Watch against Stefan Amaris." Sheila figured that she had laid it on thick as it was, so she went to parade rest and looked at Senefa. To her surprise, the Clan MechWarrior inclined her head in salute.

Malthus nodded, also impressed. He had not realized such an experienced warrior existed in the Inner Sphere, and wondered why Calla had not chosen her to begin with. "The heroism and courage displayed by both warriors have been established and verified." Which was not quite true, as the Falcons had no way of verifying Sheila's claims and obviously did not believe the part about the Elementals. Karelia Bighorn-Vlata was obviously known to them, however, by the looks on their faces; she had fought a five-year guerilla war against Amaris' forces, dying just before Kerensky had gone on the Exodus. _They know about the old Star League,_ Sheila mused, _but how?_

She jerked her mind back to the present, for Malthus was still talking. "Your claims are not without substance. No matter what fate you meet in this battle, the brightness of your light will not be diminished." He held up the kroner. "Though we train to be able to cope with the myriad situations of combat, we cannot control everything. A warrior worthy of the name must be able to rise above adversity, even at a gross disadvantage. The horrible chaos of war is reflected in this Trial of Possession. The coin will decide. Each will fight on a battlefield not entirely of his choosing. Do you understand this?" He asked both of them.

"Seyla," answered Senefa.

"Seyla," Sheila said a moment later. A glance from Senefa told her she had gotten it right this time.

"Senefa, as the challenged, you have the right to call which side of the coin." Malthus flipped the kroner into the air.

"Heads," Senefa snapped out. Sheila tried to follow the kroner's spinning, but it was impossible.

Malthus motioned Calla over. Both men knelt to look at the coin, neither touching it. "Heads," Malthus said into the silence.

"Heads it is," Calla sighed. He looked at his daughter, but there was nothing to say. Sheila shrugged.

"Senefa, you are the hunter," Malthus said, standing. "How do you choose to fight?"

"This warrior has shown she has both honor and courage," Senefa said, motioning at Sheila. "I choose to fight unaugumented."

Sheila noticed the looks on the other Falcons. Senefa might be saluting her courage, but she was also stacking the deck in her favor, either because she thought she could beat Sheila easily in a unarmed fight–and Sheila was not quite willing to dispute that claim–or she believed Sheila's statement about the Elementals. _Nice going, stupid,_ Sheila groused inwardly. _Just had to show off. _

"What weapons?"

Senefa looked at Sheila, then to Arla. "Sheila, that is your mother, quiaff?" The word mother seemed distasteful to the Clan warrior.

"I hope you're not insulting her," Sheila warned.

"I am not. Are you skilled in the use of a staff?"

Sheila brightened. She had practiced with a staff since she was seven, and continued to do so, after a naginata accident at age fifteen had laid open her left arm to the bone. "I am indeed," Sheila replied.

Senefa nodded. "I choose staves." Malthus looked to Sheila, who also nodded.

"Bargained well and done. Staves it shall be fought with."

"Seyla," both women answered, Sheila just behind Senefa.

"Sheila, you are the hunted. Where will you fight?"

Sheila could not think of anywhere that would give her an advantage. She looked around, and saw the melted snow on the ground. _What the hell, they call me the Snowbird. Might as well live up to it._ "Right here," Sheila replied. "I'll fight on this field."

"Bargained well and done," Malthus replied. He turned and ordered his Elementals to form a rough semicircle, porous enough so that others could watch the battle. Arla did the same with her Praxians, then helped Sheila take off her cape. "I shouldn't have gotten you into this," she said.

"Someone has to do it. Besides, I've beaten you with the staff, Mom. This woman should be no sweat."

Arla looked at Sheila. "You don't believe that."

"You're right," Sheila replied sheepishly.

"Believe it. You are the best we have."

Calla put his hand on her shoulder. Father and daughter looked at each other, the silence speaking volumes. "I'll make sure Max has something to do," he said finally. Both knew that the rumor mill was probably already sending back the message of the fight, and the Sentinels' camp was only six kilometers away. Calla looked over at Malthus. "Khan Malthus!"

"Yes?" Malthus asked, turning around. He had been telling Senefa not to underestimate her foe. Senefa said nothing, merely shrugged off her cape.

"This fight isn't to the death, is it?" Calla thought it sounded ridiculous for him to ask, but he had to know.

"Only if the warriors wish it. Either can call an end to the fight if she does not wish to go on, or if one is pushed from the Circle." He paused. "I should warn you that, once inside a Circle of Equals, there are no rules. Only victory."

"Very well." He looked back to Sheila and nodded. One of Arla's troopers came up and handed her a wooden quarterstaff. She took it, spun it a few times, then presented it to Sheila like a daimyo to a samurai. Sheila took it and bowed to her mother, then, with a brief hug, both her parents withdrew to the circle. Khan Malthus, of course, simply gave Senefa a nod and did the same.


	4. Circle of Equals

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Last chapter of this story arc. Yeah, it's a pretty short one. _

_Oookay,_ Sheila thought, her heart hammering in her chest with adrenalin, anticipation and fear. _All I gotta do is beat her up until she screams for mercy._ She looked at her opponent's face. Senefa's expression was calm, utterly without fear. It was not overconfident or haughty, it was simply empty. _Yeah, right. I don't know what _would_ make her scream._

Sheila twirled the staff in her hands, getting a feel for its balance. It was her mother's; Sheila's was back on Grunwald. It had been made of fine Tall Trees wood and immersed in a hardening agent that made it nearly as tough as steel. It felt light and strong in her hands.

Senefa pulled off her belt and withdrew the piece of metal from the holster. It was roughly about a foot long. She tossed the holster to one of the Elementals, then pressed a stud in the middle of the staff. With twin metallic thunks, the staff extended to either side, with a length the same as Sheila's staff. _Ah, crap,_ Sheila thought.

Both women stretched and limbered up. A few of the Sentinels yelled encouragement and sent catcalls the Falcons' way, but the Clanfolk were eerily silent.

"Are you ready, warriors?" Malthus called out.

"Aff," Senefa simply answered.

"Let's do it," Sheila said.

"Then begin."

Sheila went into a stance, half expecting Senefa to come at her right off the bat. Nothing of the sort happened. Senefa simply stood, looking at Sheila as if the other woman had lost her mind, and waited. Sheila then began to stalk closer, her feet moving around, trying to throw Senefa off as to which way she was coming. Senefa moved out a slight distance so that Sheila could not trap her against the circle or throw her out of it with a quick shove. Senefa's movements were quick, but sure, each foot deliberately placed on solid, dry ground.

_Total economy of movement,_ Sheila analyzed. _Nothing's wasted. Even her breathing is perfect._ Both women's breath steamed the cool air. _Think, Sheila. That's the way the Clanners fight. Her unarmed combat is no different. Cold and calculating._ Sheila smiled, and let it turn into a feral grin. _Okay. Scream and leap offensive it is._

With a sudden shout from the bottom of her lungs, Sheila dashed forward, swinging the staff in an arc that would end at Senefa's face. Senefa had been holding her staff loosely in front of her, but her synthleather gloves cracked as she brought the staff up to block. Sheila continued forward and leapt, aiming her knee for Senefa's nose. Senefa vanished beneath her in a blur.

_Oh shit,_ Sheila had time to think. Senefa had squatted , throwing out her left leg to catch Sheila's planted right foot, and using one of her hands to assist Sheila's momentum. Sheila managed to twist in midair so that she landed on her backside. She slid in the mud, nearly going out of the Circle. The Falcons let out whoops and bone-chilling shrieks.

Sheila quickly whipped around, getting to her knees, but Senefa had merely turned around and waited. She had a slight smile of derision on her face. Sheila grumbled a few choice curse words and stood, her once pristine white dress uniform now stained green and brown.

Sheila took a breath and ran at Senefa again, this time not shouting. The Clan MechWarrior stood her ground. Sheila threw a clumsy downward strike, but Senefa did not fall for such an obvious feint, merely leaning back away from it. Sheila, however, had anticipated that, and dropped low, letting go with her left hand, reversing the staff with her right hand to swing at Senefa's side. Senefa's metal staff sang through the air as it cracked into Sheila's, trapping it against the ground.

But Sheila had anticipated that, as well. She knew the Clans were also vulnerable to surprises. Senefa barely had time to look around as Sheila's left fist crashed into her mouth. Now it was the Clanswoman's turn to go flying, landing hard on the wet grass.

Sheila saw blood on her knuckles and resisted a wild, primal impulse to lick it off. _Damn,_ she thought as she rushed forward, not giving Senefa time to recover, _she managed to roll with that punch, and she's already kipping up...she's fast..._

"I kin death for thee, Snowbird!" Senefa screamed, her bottom lip split. All pretense of superiority gone, she swung her staff at Sheila's midsection. Sheila countered, thrust back, and was blocked. Senefa next aimed for the head, had that blocked, as was Sheila's riposte. The sound of their staves cracked around the Circle. No one hooted or jeered now; they simply stood and watched as the two young women did their level best to severely injure and/or kill the other.

Sheila shot her staff forward again, expecting a block, but hit empty air. Too late she realized that it had been Senefa who had anticipated her this time, ducking the thrust and kicking upwards. Sheila easily read the pattern on the bottom of Senefa's boot before everything went black for a moment. Sheila threw a panicked kick out as she crashed back into the wet grass.

Feeling as if her head had miner 'Mechs probing for gold in it, Sheila staggered up to a sitting position, knowing she was too slow, expecting the impact of metal at any moment. None came, and she hazily saw Senefa lying ten feet away, gasping for breath in dry heaves. Sheila's hasty kick had caught the Clanswoman squarely in the stomach. Something tasted coppery on Sheila's lips, and she hesitantly felt her nose. It hurt, but didn't feel broken, though there was plenty of blood streaming from it. She wiped it off as best she could, and slowly got to her feet. Senefa, having hacked up what little was in her stomach, saw the movement and did the same. Both smiled at each other for a moment, a silent compliment.

Senefa popped her neck, spun the staff in front of her, and charged forward, incredibly fast. Sheila blocked a sideways swing and then an overhead one. As Senefa shifted to strike to the side, Sheila thought she saw an opening and went for it, swinging her staff at Senefa's exposed back. Too late, she realized that the Clanswoman had anticipated that, had even planned for it; she ducked and let the staff pass over her head, the wood plucking at her hair. Sheila had overextended her swing, leaving herself wide open. She thrust the staff straight out at Sheila's face. Sheila just managed to turn her cheek in time so that the metal tip crashed into the side of her face and not her teeth. She staggered, feeling as if her jaw had been broken, and Senefa, spinning with the grace of a dancer, swept Sheila's legs out from under her. The mercenary crashed to the ground hard, knocking the wind from her, and worst of all, losing her staff.

Sheila rolled over on her stomach, gasping for air, the world very hazy. Finally her vision cleared, except for a red haze of pain from a bleeding nose and a cracked cheekbone. She slowly looked over and saw Senefa standing five feet away, one polished boot on Sheila's staff. She held her own staff in front of her, smiling. She was letting Sheila stand up and recover. Senefa glanced at the edge of the circle, only a few inches from Sheila's left hand. The implication was clear: give up or continue to be beaten. Sheila might have, except for the triumphant smile on Senefa's face. Sheila wiped her lips free of blood, spit more of it onto the grass, and stood straight, determined to wipe that smile off the Clanswoman's face or die trying. She saw behind Senefa her parents and Max, all with looks of horror on their face. She walked a little further into the circle, giving herself some room, and went into a stance, holding her hands in front of her, side turned. Sheila could not resist giving Senefa a come-hither gesture. Senefa's smile broadened, either in respect, contempt, or just the prospect of further bashing the mercenary into the wet grass.

She did, too. Senefa moved forward again, swinging the staff. Sheila blocked with her hands and tried to grab it, but Senefa was too fast, withdrawing the staff just out of reach, hooking her feet behind Sheila's ankles and tripping her up. Sheila went down again, now bleeding from a shallow cut on her arm as well where the sharp edge of Senefa's staff had slashed her. Senefa leapt backwards, away from any riposte Sheila might launch. Instead, Sheila got back to her feet.

Senefa walked forward this time, spinning the staff, then swept it across at Sheila's midsection. Sheila dodged, slapping the staff aside, then blocked a vicious overhead swing that would have split her skull, crossing her arms. The impact reverberated up her arms and they went numb, almost as if they had been broken. Sheila staggered back, slipped on the grass, and fell. Once more Senefa pulled back, and once more Sheila managed to get to unsteady feet, coughing and bleeding. It took a moment for her to get her breath. The Falcons were screaming at Senefa now, yelling at their champion to finish off the upstart freebirth. Senefa looked down at Sheila, her smile gone. Sheila read the play of expression on her opponent's face: Senefa was beginning to feel foolish, like she was beating a puppy or a kitten. It was no longer a battle of equals. It was, simply, no longer fun. She looked towards Malthus, who inclined his head towards Sheila, in an obvious move that Senefa should finish the fight now.

Max, on the sidelines, caught the movement. He looked at Sheila, who was weaving unsteadily, her hands shaking with exertion, her once pristine white uniform now stained and bloody. He tried to press through the infantry. "I'm ending this," he growled. "She's killing Sheila out there."

Calla slapped his hand against Max's chest. "Wait a second." He had thought about ending the match himself, but then he had noticed something in his daughter's eyes. They were bright, but not with exhaustion. Arla's lips began to curve into a slow smile.

Senefa started forward once more, not twirling the staff or making any show of force. She intended to sweep Sheila's legs out from under her and this time stand on her chest, ending the fight for good. Sheila's eyes drooped and she blinked; Senefa, with a trace of pity, tensed to make the final strike.

And then Sheila hit out with everything she had. She suddenly straightened, planted her left foot, and lashed upwards in a vicious kick aimed at Senefa's head. Senefa's eyes widened at the sudden attack and instinctively brought up the staff to block. Sheila had thought that she might, and hoped that she would. Senefa's grip on the staff was still somewhat loose, and her mind was still adjusting to the fact that her opponent was not yet beaten. Sheila's boot caught the staff dead-center and kicked it out of Senefa's hands. It sailed into the air and came down in the Sentinels' side of the circle; Tooriu Kku simply reached up and caught it in one beefy paw. Senefa jumped backwards, nearly losing her footing as she did so. Inwardly, she cursed, knowing she had just fallen for the oldest trick in the book.

Sheila did not repay the courtesy of giving Senefa a chance. She leapt forward and tackled the Clanswoman, sending both of them sliding in the mud. Senefa squirmed and managed to turn over, but Sheila, who recalled a childhood memory of watching a strongman fight a greased pig, got an arm across Senefa's throat. Gripping her hands together, Sheila pressed upwards in a classic chokehold. She tried to dig her knee into Senefa's back, but Senefa was still slipping around too much. Sheila was close enough to see that the hold was having its effect, however; Senefa's face was turning beet red and she was gasping, trying to get her breath. Sheila tightened the hold, Senefa scrabbling at her arms. "It's over," Sheila whispered into Senefa's hair. "Just give up!"

Senefa said nothing, but Sheila abruptly realized that her flailing arms was not desperation. Senefa was searching for something, and found it. She dug her fingers painfully into pressure points on Sheila's wrist and elbow. Sheila yelped in pain and let go. Senefa got her knees under her and stood up with a shout of exertion, snapping her head backwards. Sheila had to stand up or have her nose smashed by the crown of Senefa's skull.

Sheila backpedaled for room as Senefa whirled, throwing a clumsy kick at her, still winded. It had its effect, however, as Sheila's right boot slid in the mud, nearly causing her to fall. Senefa saw her opening and took it, rushing Sheila, turning at the last moment so the mercenary's block was in the wrong place, and savagely ramming an elbow into Sheila's ribs. Sheila doubled over, setting her up for Senefa's follow-up, a closed-hand smash to the face. Sheila fell backwards, seeing stars.

Senefa tried to close for the kill, but slipped in the mud herself. She had to stop and catch her breath, her throat still bruised from Sheila's attempt to strangle her. Sheila moaned in pain as she sat up, facing Senefa only two feet away. "I know...I got...a rib...why...won't you...just...stay down!" Senefa huffed.

Sheila spit out a gob of blood. "Go screw yourself..." Sheila growled, then remembered the revulsion the Clanfolk had shown earlier. She took a chance, and grinned at Senefa through bloody teeth. "...you freebirth pile of shit."

At that moment, Sheila realized she had just pushed Star Colonel Senefa too far. The Clanswoman's eyes bulged and seemed to turn red. From the hissing she heard from the crowd, Sheila guessed she had just given a mortal insult. Senefa let out an unearthly shriek, leapt to her feet, and brought down her fist down in a brutal piledriver aimed at Sheila's throat.

Sheila's grin remained in place, as she realized something else: Senefa had lost control of herself.

The mercenary, still on her back, twisted in the mud and let Senefa's fist smack into the mud. Grabbing Senefa's arm with her left hand and using it as a brace, Sheila repaid the Clanswoman back in her own coin, putting everything behind a punch to the stomach. Even so, Sheila felt the other woman's stomach muscles tighten to take the blow, but it was enough to make Senefa crumple around her fist. Sheila tucked her legs under Senefa, who was gasping for breath like an asthmatic, and kicked her off over Sheila's head. Senefa tried to spin in midair to come up on her feet, but the result was that she landed on her face instead of her back.

Sheila, in a surge of adrenalin, continued the flip and came up lightly on her feet. She let the energy built up in the flip continue to throw her backward, aiming her elbow at the back of Senefa's skull. Senefa managed to squirm away, but this only meant that Sheila's elbow came down squarely on Senefa's forearm. There was the crunch of bone, and Senefa screamed in pain.

For a moment, there was only silence as the two women lay practically intertwined. Senefa's crushed arm was trapped under Sheila's body. The Clanswoman screamed again as Sheila rolled over the fracture and punched her in the cheek. She tried to get up, but Sheila pummeled her again, knowing that she had to render Senefa unconscious–or to kill her–before she would give up.

But the fight was out of Senefa. She had barely enough strength to keep her face out of the mud. Sheila grabbed her by the hair at her temples. "Damn...you...yield..." Sheila struggled out. She was nearly out on her feet as well. "I swear...to God...I'll drown you...in the mud..."

Senefa brought her uninjured hand around and gripped Sheila's right arm weakly. She tried to pry it off and failed. To Sheila's surprise, the Clanswoman began crying. "I...I yield," she whispered. "Stravag...I yield."

Sheila let go of Senefa's hair and weavingly stayed on her knees. She looked at Khan Malthus. "She says...she yields," Sheila puffed.

Malthus broke from the crowd and strode forward. He bent down on one knee and placed his ear near Senefa's. She said something too low for Sheila to hear, then her eyes rolled up into her head and she collapsed into the mud. Malthus carefully turned her over, motioned to one of the Elementals to come forward, then looked at Sheila. There was respect in his eyes, but there was also hatred as well, and Sheila knew that she had made at least one blood enemy that day. Malthus opened his mouth to deliver a curse, then thought better of it. Instead, he sighed. "Very well, Sheila Arla-Vlata. You have won the Trial. Second Try is yours."

The Inner Sphere side of the circle erupted in cheers. Sheila gave a weak grin, then limply fell backward into the mud.


End file.
